relapsed
by lilredstoo-obsessed91
Summary: extremely hurt stiles fic idk why... i'm a horrible person heh... lots of pack fluff and bonding though!


inspired by this lovely piece:  /works/5060521/chapters/12713213

basically it's very brief but stiles relapses. soo i kinda wanted to elaborate hehe but without stiles being trans… idk i just thought i'd show ya my inspiration for this relapse fic.

today was a good day. or- today was _supposed_ to be a good day. it'd been awhile since he'd had a _bad_ day. two months, 21 days since his last bad day to be exact. the pack powered through his house and took every sharp object from every bloody cabinet. scott was even about to lock up all his cutlery but the others thought that was a little extreme- or that it wouldn't be very practical having to call scott to unlock the drawers every time he wanted to make a damn sandwich- which wasn't that often seeing as he barely ate anything when he wasn't around the pack … but they didn't need to know that.

after a lot of arguing, they allowed him to keep his razor so he could at least shave- but obviously, scott being scott, insisted on coming around every week to make sure it was the same razor and hadn't been broken. in his defense- when they caught stiles in the act it was probably amongst one of the worst relapses he's ever had.

 _two months and 21 days ago_

 _this is the third day in a row. the third day some of matt's goons had decided his life wasn't already miserable enough. unlike the previous days, he hadn't even been able to get out a sarcastic comment before he was pushed to the ground, shovelled up only to be thrown down again. kids were crowding around, most of the crowd was made up of the school's football team- so of course nobody gave a shit about the kid huddled up in a ball getting the shit kicked out of him, most of them were cheering and yelling profanities._

 _most of what stiles could make out were a combination of "psycho stilinski!" and "maybe if you killed yourself you wouldn't feel the pain" nope- that one was in his head. maybe they were all in his head- maybe nobody spoke at all. it wouldn't surprise him. nobody even gives him the time of the day._

 _the pack would- if stiles let them in. nothing had happened between them, no drama, no big fights- stiles has simply just… pulled away. they were all at lacrosse training (well- either training or watching) on the other side of the school._

 _he hadn't even realised that the crowd around him was gone- probably because his vision was black. this was usually how every beating ended- if he didn't black out he probably would be dead._

 _he got up, ignoring the curious eyes watching his every move, and limped over to his jeep trying desperately to prevent an oncoming panic attack. usually a panic attack would end with the butchering of his wrists, thighs, ankles or hips. it wasn't a healthy mechanism for coping- he knew that, he wasn't stupid. but ever since his mum passed away when he was only 14, he didn't know how else to cope. it made him feel something. something that was taken away when his mother took her own life almost 4 years ago on the 8th of april- his birthday._

 _before he knew it he was home. clambering up the stairs, almost on his hands and knees. he was out of breath and he was focusing the little energy he had left on not passing out. his lanky hand threw itself into his bathroom drawer and fished around for his little friend- his blade. stiles grasped it desperately between his fingers and fell back against the bathroom door after slamming it shut._

 _soon, his shirt was on the floor and his pants down to his knees. sometimes he just wished this was it- that this was the last time he would cut into his skin, the last time he would feel anything at all. but reality was harsh, he was trapped in this life until his father died- sure that might sound harsh. but his dad was the only thing keeping him from feeling even the slightest bit, scott and the pack would be able to move on. most of them were just 'putting up with him' most of the time. but no- he couldn't escape because his dad had already lost his wife to the same fate._ stiles _lost his mother!_

 _a wave of pain tore through his body and the panic-ridden boy looked down at his sliced up wrist. there were no spots of blood or little pearls… they were all open and bleeding. they wouldn't kill him but they sure as hell will make him light headed. the last time he got this bad was on his 16 birthday. 2 years without his mother had hit him hard._

 _he scrambled to his feet and collected some wet wipes, ace bandages and a large box of butterfly strips._

 _swiftly he cleaned up the extra blood and pulled his wounds closed with almost half the box of butterfly strips. he wrapped the ace bandage tightly around his wrist and sighed contently. should it worry him how good he is at this? probably. does it worry him? nope._

 _he finished off with a few cuts to each thigh- all his previous cuts were now just tiny silver and white lines in his skin. his thighs were used as punishment, he wasn't supposed to cut so deep and wide on his wrist._

 _he then stood up and sprayed on excessive amounts of cologne to mask the smell of blood from the werewolves. or at least try._

 _ **new text message from 'broody mcsourwolf'**_

 _ **received 4:28pm 17 january**_

 _ **[ don't forget the pack meeting tonight at 5 - Derek Hale ]**_

 _ **from stiles stilinski**_

 _ **delivered 4:29pm 17 january**_

 _ **[ alright big bad alpha i'll be there, don't get your tail in a twist … anywaaaaay heh … remember you don't have to sign your name. i already know it's you }**_

 _with that he stood up and shoved his phone in his back pocket after noting the time- 4:32pm. wow, had he really spent that long deciding what to text back? he shook his head, disappointed at how pathetic he could be and walked out to his jeep. not bothering to leave a note as his dad was working late, he sped off towards derek's loft._

 _the pack had already started the meeting when they heard stiles jeep pulled up._

 _jackson and allison were arguing when stiles slid open the heavy door to the loft_

" _look- all i'm saying is why should we stop people from doing it, i mean the people who commit are probably all psychos anyway, why would we want them with us anyway?"_

 _stiles felt himself gag slightly- was he talking about suicide? no- he couldn't be. he's an asshole but he wouldn't- would he?_

" _they're still innocent lives jackson!" allison screached. scott was behind her. he looked over and met stiles' gaze and stiles saw him mouth something that looked like a 'don't listen to him'._

" _if people wanna kill themselves then let them bloody kill themselves!"_

 _that did it._

 _before the human could comprehend jackson's final words, he was curled over the toilet, up-chucking whatever was in his stomach- which wasn't much._

" _stiles!" he heard isaac call out to him and then there were footsteps quickly approaching him._

" _i'm sorry stiles- i was going to stop him but that might include telling them about- and i didn't know if you were okay with that" scott bent down and rubbed stiles back lightly, trying to comfort the teary eyed boy._

 _slowly, with scotts hand still placed on the small of his back he stood up and wiped his mouth, flushing the contents of his stomach down into the sewers._

" _it's fine" he sighed heavily as he pushed his way through the crowd of confused pack members._

" _have you ever lost anybody to suicide_ whittemore?" _stiles stopped once he got to the middle of the loft and turned to face jackson, who scoffed-_

" _no, what's that got to do with anything?" he looked back at the rest of the pack in confusion and scott sucked in a harsh breath._

" _w-what's that got to do with anything? how bloody thick can you be?!" the now infuriated teen ran a hand through his long black hair_

" _april 8th. 4 years ago. m-my mother killed h-herself" he choked out a sob and furiously wiped away his tears._

" _Stiles-" the strawberry blonde was just coming away from the bathroom to try and comfort him._

" _can we get on with the meeting now?" the pack sighed- obviously annoyed, hoping to get more out of stiles._

" _alright" derek emerged from his spot in the corner of the room "no point arguing about something stiles doesn't want to discuss. let's get started. physical fitness check- shirts off"_

 _what?! physical fitness check?! great- fucking fantastic. now, it wasn't like this was a new thing for the pack, but they were warned a month prior to their last one so stiles had a month to hide the scars on his wrists._

 _he's just going to have to lie and hope for the best- say he lightly sprained his wrist and wasn't covering hideous lacerations… self inflicted lacerations._

" _stiles!" derek's loud broody voice shocked him out of his own thoughts. he took note of his surroundings. the pack were all standing in a circle- all shirtless except for the girls of course who were in their bras. scott was half standing in front of his girlfriend- in his defence, nobody would be particularly found of their girlfriend standing in her bra in a room full of shirtless guys with bloody 8-packs._

" _aww is wittle stiwinski insecuwe abou' his tum tum? has wittle stiwes eaten one too many twinkies?" jackson scoffed mockingly._

 _however stiles didn't have a stomach at all- in fact his rib cage was almost sticking out from the lack of meals._

 _the teen lets out a long sigh and slowly, he peels, not one shirt- but two long sleeve shirts off of his torso. emitting a quiet gasp from his friends that stand around him. hm? he thought he was skinny but he must not be as slim as he thought he was judging by the packs horrified faces._

" _stiles-" lydia was the first to walk forward. she immediately started to examine his torso, poking at the boys ribs that jutted out like sore thumbs._

 _as if she'd seen a ghost (more like a pair of crocs in amongst her louis vuittons since a ghost wouldn't be too shocking considering that she's surrounded by werewolves). she stuck her thumbs into the loops of stiles' jeans and pulled them down just below his hips, revealing countless white and silver streaks that marked his sides._

" _s-stiles what the hell!" she looked up at him with tears brimming her eyes but he refused to meet her gaze, instead staring up at the ceiling._

" _and this!" the strawberry blonde lowers her voice slightly, she knew that this was not a time to yell at the teen and make him feel ashamed. "did you-"_

 _quickly, as if her hand was a toxin or some sort of bullet, he tore his wrist out of her grasp and clutched it to his chest, wincing at the pressure._

" _n-no i just h-hit it against my jeep" he bit his lip slightly "it's just lightly sprained-"_

" _bullshit stiles- why didn't you tell me? your dad- we helped you last time" stiles silently cursed scott. leave it to him to bring up last time._

" _last time?" allison began to question._

" _look- it doesn't matter okay? when my mum died i had a hard time coping" he gestures to his hips "but they're old, see? they're just old scars, nothing to worry about, i was young and stupid"_

" _then show us your wrist- if it's just a sprain it won't be the end of the world if you take off the bandage- it's not like it'll get infected" this time it was isaac who stepped forward quietly. he looked like a kicked puppy, half hiding behind his scarf._

" _please stiles?"_

 _stiles squinted slightly and looked down at the girl he was in love with- he couldn't let her see his weakness. huffing quietly to himself, he held out his wrist, wiping his eyes furiously with his free arm._

 _the more lydia unwrapped the many layers of ace bandage, the closer the others in the room crept forward, scott had a hand on stiles shoulder comfortingly, but stiles still refused to look at any of them._

 _the more bandage that fell off of his arm- the more he began to regret letting lydia do this._

" _i-it isn't even- it's usually not this bad- i was- and i just… i didn't mean to?" lydia looked up at stiles and nodded slightly, more for stiles benefit- she'd never dealt with anything like this before. for once in her life, lydia martin, was stumped._

 _the last layer came undone and just like the bandages falling to the floor, her tears fell down her cheeks just as fast. she'd seen cuts- briefly a long time ago in health class but these- these were not what she had anticipated at all. these were angry and bleeding and thick._


End file.
